the river styx
by freedomatsea
Summary: This is a one-shot, which will span into a brief series of other one-shots centered around my ridiculous (but amazing) theory I posted this morning. I don't really care if its a valid theory, it's an awesome plot idea and I'm down to write it over the next few weeks and through the hiatus. Set post-finale. Based on my theory and spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n: **This is a CS inspired fic, so it's getting tagged as CS, even though this one-shot only has Emma in it. If you want to follow this series of one-shots, you'll need to read this one for sure. Plus, it's totally fun.

* * *

Emma grimaced at the pungent scent of Sulphur as it burned in her nostrils. Her lashes fluttered, her eyes still blurred with the tears she'd fought so hard to keep at bay. Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest she could hear the steady thump of it in her ears.

She felt like she'd been _electrocuted_. Her entire body felt weighted and sore. Her skin tingled and her hair felt like it was standing on end.

_Hook._ She could still see his face, the pain, the fear – she had known it would have to come to this. This was what it was like to be the Savior. She didn't get a happy ending. Neither did he apparently. Or her parents. Or Henry. Emma knew she was their happy ending, as much as they were hers. But, the fates weren't in her favor.

Slowly she sat up, her eyes straining in the eerie blue light of the room she was in. The ground was warm, but the air felt cool. The walls appeared to be stone. Emma stood up awkwardly, her legs uncertain of her weight as she put them to use again. She had no idea how long she'd been out of it. That had been one hell of a shock to her system.

She reached into her pocket, pulling out her cellphone and staring at it. Of course there was no bars. Why the hell had she even expected there to be bars. The Apprentice hadn't told her _where_ she would go, just what she'd had to do if their other plan failed. Which it had and now she was… _here_. She pocketed the phone, not wanting to stare at the screensaver any longer. It was a picture of her with Killian and Henry – Mary Margaret had taken it a few weeks after everything had settled down. It hurt too much to look at it. That was the life she'd let herself hope she could be afforded. But she'd been wrong.

Emma had faith in her family – they'd find her. Somehow. With Killian there, she knew wholeheartedly that he wouldn't rest until she was found. Her parents? She could only hope they'd want to find her. Did they even have hope in her? Or was she just some lost cause and they could move on with her baby brother?

Her fists clenched tightly at her sides and she stepped forward, blindly, into the darkness. She could barely see ahead of her, the blue light was more consuming than illuminating.

"Hello?" Emma called out, which she realized was probably a _really _dumb move. She had no idea where she was, her magic was probably on the fritz after using that much, and she had no other weapon to protect herself. For all she knew she could be in the belly of a stony monster or in a dragon's cave. Given past experiences… she could have been _anywhere_.

If only it had been Narnia. Somewhere _safe_.

Emma wandered through the darkness, following the sound of running water. That was a good sign – right? Perhaps she could follow the water to its source and find a way out of the darkness.

The darkness was never ending. She walked and _walked _until she came to the water. It was a slow-creeping river that vanished into the darkness at either side. It was wide. Wider than she'd imagined it would be. It sounded _so_ quite. Yet it was a vast body of water that extended well beyond where she could see.

Emma knelt down, reaching out to dip her hand into it. She was _dying _of thirst.

"I wouldn't drink from that if I were you."

Emma jerked around. "Who are you?" She questioned cautiously, her back going stiff as she eyed the brunette woman. Her eyes flickered over the clothes she wore, which were distinctly piratical.

"It doesn't really matter _who_ I am," She replied. "I'm just warning you that drinking from that river would not be advised. Unless you want to be stuck here for all eternity." The woman crossed her arms across her chest. "And seeing as you're not dead, I don't think that's what you want."

Emma's eyes widened at her words. She definitely _didn't _want to be stuck in this world forever. Especially if there was a chance she could escape. She was apparently alive, which was hopeful. "And you're not… _alive_?"

"No." She shrugged her shoulders. "Haven't been for several hundred years."

Emma cocked her head to the side. "You're… Milah, aren't you?" She didn't know how she knew, aside from the piraty outfit, but she knew she was right.

She smiled faintly. "That I am." Milah arched a skeptical brow. "And you're Emma Swan." She shook her head. "Funny how life plays out. How you and I are connected."

Emma didn't want to get into _that_. She was staring at the mother of Neal, her son's _grandmother_, but also the dead lover of her… _boyfriend_. Family trees were more like a game of Twister. "Why are _you_ here? Where _is_ here?"

"The Underworld," Milah explained, gesturing around them. "That river there is the River Styx. For those of us who are dead on arrival, we cross it by natural means. Your arrival… it wasn't planned." The woman looked away then, staring into the darkness, a look of _fear_ etched into her face. "I have to go."

Emma stepped forward, "Wait! No. I have more questions." She reached out to grab Milah's arm, but her fingers went through her deathly cold skin and she vanished before her eyes. Emma stared down at her hand, wiggling her fingers. That was not a sensation she wanted to feel again. Like death were mist that had caressed her skin.

She swallowed thickly, looking around in the darkness. The eerie blue light was elusive. At times she could see further into the darkness, but at other times it seemed to hinder her sight. Her eyes hadn't exactly adjusted to the thick darkness that surrounded her.

"Ohhhhhhhhh _Emmmma_."

Her eyes widened and she froze. "Who… Who's there?"

"The host with the most," The voice remarked, before a snapping sounded (_fingers_?) illuminated the world around her.

Emma shielded her eyes with her arm, turning away from the source of the light. She swore she could see a thousand faces staring straight at her, before they vanished into the dissipating darkness.

"_Baboom_. Name's Hades. God of the Dead. Welcome to the hottest place this side of the River Styx. I call it home. Others, well, they call it _hell_."

Her eyes widened in shock as she stared. Disney hadn't gotten this one wrong. His skin bore a greyish-blue tinge and the tips of his hair were alight with blue flames. "What. The. Hell."


	2. Chapter 2

Killian had had his heart _ripped _out of his chest and nearly crushed before his eyes and that had hurt _less_ than what he was feeling right now. His eyes burned with the tears he'd been trying to suppress. But now wasn't the time to cry. This was the time to find a way to get to Emma.

"Where the bloody hell is the Apprentice?" Killian shouted as he burst through the door of the diner, his entire body rigid with anger as he searched the frightened faces of the patrons who had been seated inside through the entire lightening show outside.

"He's not here." Granny remarked from behind the counter, arms crossed across her chest defensively, before the irritated look on her face dropped. "What happened?"

Killian's jaw muscles flexed, his teeth clenched together as he stared at the old woman. He wanted to _yell_. He wanted to scream and shout and make sure that the entire town knew that Emma had sacrificed herself to save their lives. He'd turn them all over if somehow it would bring her back. But that wasn't what Emma would want.

It was David who spoke. He hadn't even realized that the prince had followed him into the diner. "She's gone." His voice broke with emotion and Killian turned back to look at David, blinking rapidly as tried to keep from crying.

"We're trying to get her back." Killian said defensively, his gaze flickering back to Granny. "Where did _he _go?"

"He disappeared during… the storm." Granny explained, as though she were searching for the right word to describe whatever had transpired outside the restaurant.

Killian's fist clenched into a ball at his side. He'd needed a drink and he needed to break _something_. But neither of those things would help get Emma back. She wouldn't want him to lash out. She _didn't_ want him to lash out. He couldn't let her slip into the past. He couldn't refer to her hopes and desires as _were _and _was_.

He turned on his heels and headed for the door, but David grabbed his arm. "Where are you going?"

"To find a way to get Emma back, _mate_." He said harshly, wrenching his arm out of the prince's hold. "Because I refuse to sit idle when she could be in agonizing pain as we speak. That much magic. That _intense_."

"We don't even know where she is."

Killian glared daggers at the man. "I intend to find out where she is." He puffed out his chest, holding David's gaze. "Don't let this be like the year without her. You and your wife moved on with your lives without her. I _can't _live without her. There's not alternative to her. I can't just settle down and get myself someone new to fill this void. Not the way you and Snow moved back into your little castle and started over." He would _forever_ hold that against them. They'd been so accepting of the fact that they'd never see Emma again and he refused to let that happen again.

Emma deserved better than that. She deserved her _family_ to fight to get her back. If she was selfless enough to sacrifice herself for _everyone_, then everyone could sacrifice their every waking minute to get her back.

Killian didn't give David a chance to respond to his biting critique, before he was out the door and heading straight for the library. Belle would know something. She had been married to the damned Dark One, she had all the resources in the world at her fingertips in that library. She should be able to work it out.

He didn't care if this pursuit turned her parents against him. He didn't _care_ what they thought of him, because honestly, he didn't think highly of them. They were her parents, he respected that, and he valued them because she loved them. But after what they'd done, the revelation that they'd done something so _wrong_ and lied to their daughter's face. His favor had slipped considerably. He'd tried in earnest to forgive them for the year without her, how idle they'd been, uncaring that she was out there in the world living a false life. How quick they'd been to distrust him once they'd returned to Storybrooke.

He pushed open the library doors, his footsteps heavy against the flooring as he strode into the quite space.

"It didn't work, did it?" Belle questioned gently, knowing the answer already. Killian was certain his loss was etched into the lines of his face. He'd lost so much already. But this loss exceeded the others. This was the loss of love. _True_ love.

Killian shook his head. "No, I'd be celebrating if it had. There has to be some way to get her back."

"_Back_?" Belle's head cocked to the side curiously. "You mean she's not… dead?"

His brows knit together. "No. She's not." There was no body. There was no reason to assume that she was dead. He would know if she was dead. He would _feel_ it. This – this felt like how he'd felt torn in half when she'd been forced to leave before. She was somewhere else. She was out there. "She vanished."

"And… the dagger?" Belle questioned, moving around behind the circulation counter, eyeing the books that were spread out across the top.

"Regina has it." Killian answered, stepping towards the counter, his gaze dropping to the books. There were drawings of the dagger. Passages and diagrams in an archaic language scrawled out on the pages. "Can you read this?"

Belle shook her head solemnly. "No. I couldn't translate it in time."

Killian flinched. If they'd just had more _time_. He couldn't blame Belle though. They were under duress. It was the fates' fault – not hers. "How long do you need?"

"I don't know. They might be impossible to translate. They appear to be some sort of coded rune mixed with an archaic form of Greek." She smoothed her hands over the pages, staring down at the drawings. "All that I've been able to work out is that the dagger was intended to purge the world of hope and good. That's why Emma had to…"

Killian held up his hand to keep her from finishing. "Have you seen the Apprentice? He's the one who told her this was what she had to do."

"I haven't seen him." Belle shook her head, reaching over the counter to touch his arm. "We'll find her Killian. We'll find a way to get her back."

Killian's brows knit together. Her voice belayed her doubt. "Thank you." He flashed a tense smile before retreating away from the counter, steering himself towards the door.

"Wait!"

Killian stopped, looking towards rows of books. "What?"

Will rubbed at the back of his neck as he stepped forward from where he'd clearly been hiding from him. "The writing. In the book. I've seen it before."

"Where?" Belle questioned.

"In the Dark One's Castle. During the year we went back there." He glanced downwards. "I was trying to find Ana. Thought _perhaps_ the Dark One would know a thing or two about that. Seeing as he was dead then, I scoured the castle."

Killian glanced towards Belle who had stiffened, her arms crossed across her chest. "What did you find out?" He questioned as he looked back towards the thief.

"If my translation was correct, your girlfriend's in the Underworld."


End file.
